Sillage
by His Only Orchid
Summary: The scent lingers in the room, yet he is not physically there. And in the morning, she can feel his lingering presence in the bruise upon her mattress and in the memories of his lips rambling upon the flesh of her throat. His sillage remains, no matter how near or far. [One-shot, NaruSaku]


Slightly Dark!Naruto with Sakura as requested, so here it is. I added some innocent fluff in there too. Note that they are around nineteen here, and probably really OOC.

I haven't written anything in almost four months, and I apologize for that. I've been going through a great deal of emotional troubles, and lately they've only been getting worse.

Anyways, I've also been improving my drawing and writing skills. You can go on my tumblr, cake-and-color, to find some if you look hard enough. Or drop a writing and/or drawing prompt on by in my ask box. ~

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><p><strong><em>sillage (n.) –<em>** _the scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone's perfume._

He may not physically be there, but she can feel him.

And she can _smell _him if she tries hard enough, burying her nose into the soft contents of her pillow.

She aches for him and suffers in silence, rejecting Ino's curious inquiries and Tenten's own worry for her. But she aches for his presence all the same.

He's only been gone for about a week, she reminds herself—but to her troubled heart, it was a week too long. Worry butted constantly at her heart, poking and prodding its ugly nose into her every day thoughts; it agonizes her to no end. And all the what-ifs come barreling into her thoughts, pushing at the center of her bosom, and she swears she can feel her heart _physically _hurting—

"Ugh, get it together, Sakura," she grumbles to herself, tugging on the fabric of her sheets. She buries her head under the comforter, sighing heavily.

But he still remains in her mind.

Eventually, unable to sleep, she rolls over and stands quietly. Calloused and worn feet make their way to the window, moonlight spread like a layer of rich silk upon her floor. Her toes soak in the warm summer air and the room is flooded with outside scents, temporarily relieving her of _him. _Not for long though, for her hands linger upon the windowsill and she swears she can see his lovely eyes in the stars above.

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><p>When he had departed for his mission—which, mind you, was<em> supposed <em>to be only about three days- he had simply laid his hands upon her shoulders and beamed down at her. His grip had tightened, and she had thought that maybe, just maybe, he had felt the same desire as she did to embrace. She would have done so, had he not ran away so quickly, leaving her dazed and utterly confused.

She shakes her head, but glances upwards, cocking an eyebrow. She slips out a kunai from under her pillow and paws her way to the window, eyeing it suspiciously.

"Yo."

Her eyes widen, and she has to pinch herself to know she isn't dreaming, and her jade orbs dart back and forth frantically, searching for a single syllable to escape her throat…

…And then her clenched fist pulls back.

He darts out of the way and locks her arms behind her with ease—she blames her fatigue for getting caught—and he only tightens her when she struggles.

"N-ne Sakura-chan, I just wanted you be the first one I greeted when I got back! S-so I'll let you go if you just calm down a moment!" He yelps sharply, heat rising to his face and shaming the color of her rosette hair.

She quiets down. Muttering her complaints and flicking her face away she waits for him to let go, but his hands only daringly slide around her, and somewhere in the pit of her stomach, she can feel a slight jump.

The silence is so palpable she could have sliced it with the kunai resting in her grip. Unsaid strings of words are floating about in the air and she wants to say it—she wants to say that she missed him, and was oh so worried; but the words are caught in her throat, her heart's excitement getting the better of her.

"I missed you," he murmurs softly into the shell of her ear. She shudders at the feeling of his lips brushing every so _teasingly _on the soft flesh. Sakura's cheeks are aflame and lively now, heart beating more and more rapid as the seconds passed.

"And I need you," he continues, hands crawling on her flesh. All of her past stubbornness has suddenly withered up and she can't find the will to fight back with his hands gliding so _wonderfully _upon her clothed skin.

She flares up, reaching to pull back her fist again when his hands stop her, backing her against the wall. The room is suffocating now even with the open window, and she cannot avoid his poignant gaze, eyes twinkling with unknown but plenty _raw _emotion. She squirms and fidgets, but fails to escape the intimidating stare he sends her.

"What is it you want?" She breathes out, nearly panting, and flicking her eyes to their tangled feet. His toes looked absolutely wonderful as of the moment.

He deliberately makes his way closer to her with his lips nearing her ear (which happened to be burning bright red) with the intent to make her writhe under him, and she does exactly as he wishes. He gives his thanks to Jiraiya for his old teachings.

His teeth scrape her ear lobe and she shivers even more this time. His lips touch the skin below her ear teasingly and he _just barely _makes out the sound of a whimper from the back of her throat. His hands release their hold upon her trembling wrists and cascade down the sides of her ribcage, nestling in the soft curve of her waist.

"Well, if you must know," he says, tongue darting out to slicken the pallid skin of her clavicle, "Like I said before, I wanted you to be the first one I greeted when I came home. And second, sleep, actually. I want you to stop worrying about me and sleep," he laughs along her throat, kissing it softly. Sakura squirms a bit more and lets out a small whine.

She snaps out of her reverie when she realizes what she had done and shoots up straight, nearly hitting his head.

"S-stupid! If you wanted me to sleep, then why didn't you say so in the first place?" She rears back her head with a sharp intake of breath, squeezing the bridge of her nose.

"You didn't let me finish. I want to make sure you sleep safe and sound, because I can tell that you've been worrying Sakura. I've known you now all this time, and… you're always so worried… Sakura-chan."

She's surprised at first, and then a frown tugs at her lips, until she bursts out into a fit of giggles.

And Naruto, in his uncouth ways, lands ungracefully upon her sheets and tucks her in good night quickly. He wouldn't dare enter the haven that was the underside of the blankets, so he lays for a while as her breathing evens out, and thinks about her.

He nearly laughs, but holds himself back in fear of disturbing her rest. She looks so at peace in her dreams, mouth just a bit agape, and curled up on one side of the bed. His ocean irises soften a bit at the sight, before he rises and steps closer to her. His knees buckle down, and his fingers find themselves brushing away the stray hairs that fell over her eyes, and grins at her, shaking his head at her wonderful nature that he had come to love. His lips press to her forehead softly, and he manages a breath of a whisper, "Good night," before he makes his way to the open window.

He shoots one more tender look at her before darting off into the night.

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><p>She blinks once.<p>

Twice.

Sitting up, she finds a dip in her mattress and a slight bruise in the blankets where no doubt Naruto had been before. _So it wasn't a dream, _she muses to herself.

She can still smell him there, his essence and every bit of him lingering upon the bed sheets. She retraces his steps that he took the night before, and her pale digits stroke her ear gently. And she can still touch him there, and embrace his presence there, maybe—if she tried hard enough.

Sakura can still feel his voice running rampant across her throat, and his hands on her stomach, eyes with a sensual luster about them.

In her daze she stands up and leans out over the windowsill, peering down below into the still-sleepy Konoha. Painted across the sky is a lazied pink, stretching into more vibrant hues. And suddenly she is reminded of his term as the Orange Hokage, and openly laughs. She knows that Naruto is still probably sleeping and smiles at the thought.

"Idiot," she mumbles, before dashing off to find her clothes for the day.

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><p>It's been foreverrrrrrrr. This is probably reeeeaaaally bad, but I'm still trying to improve my writing skills.<p>

Please, no NaruHina and SasuSaku fans commenting about how it should be Sasuke or how it should be Hinata, thank you. And no flames please!

Also, I hope my fellow NaruSaku fans enjoyed. Maybe I'll give it a companion fic or two.

**I do not own Naruto or any of its characters.**


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